Raven

In twilight's grasp, where shadows wane, A raven flies through dusk’s domain, Its feathers dark, a midnight sheen, A silhouette in twilight's dream.

With eyes like coal, it peers through night, A harbinger of ancient plight, Its call, a song of ages past, Echoes deep, a spell is cast.

It perches high on ancient trees, Whispering secrets to the breeze, A guardian of time’s vast lore, A sentinel of yore and more.

Through misty veils and moonlit haze, It weaves through nights, a silent maze, In forests deep, on mountains high, A wanderer beneath the sky.

Oh, raven, cryptic bird of black, With wings that cut the night in track, You carry tales of dark and light, Of mysteries hidden from our sight.

In you, the night's enigma lies, A riddle told by starry skies, With every beat of shadowed wing, You bring the dawn, the night, the spring.

In realms where dreams and darkness blend, Where echoes of the past transcend, The raven flies, a timeless flight, A symbol of the endless night.